The Hardest Part
by Straight-Outta-Hobbiton
Summary: Ichigo and the road to drug addiction (and death). Trigger warnings inside.


Title: The Hardest Part

Summary: Ichigo and the road to drug addiction (and death).

Warnings: Drug abuse, date rape, bad relationships, suicide, the douchebag that is Isshin.

* * *

Ichigo knows he's going to die before he's twenty-one. He also knows he's going to be the one to cut his own thread.

This doesn't frighten him as much as it used to.

-SOH-

Ichigo doesn't even know the guy's name when he tries it the first time. Some fuck who's taken pity on him, who's asked him inside on a rainy, wandering night and offered him bliss- the first one's always free.

The small puncture in his skin is nothing compared to the pain he's known, even if the surge of something he's never thought to try practically burns, it's so uncomfortable. It doesn't take a minute for it to start working, but when it does, it's like Ichigo's been hit by a brick wall.

It's possibly the greatest ten minutes of his life. His body feels heavy, but his mind, his mind feels soft, blurred at the edges, and for a while, he thinks it might float away.

Then, he vomits. Everything he's eaten (which isn't much at all) comes up again, burning his throat and nose with bile.

The guy laughs at him, at his surprise, and gives Ichigo a hard pat on the back.

"It always happens, the first time," he explains, as though it's a comfort. "It gets better, the more ya do it."

Ichigo doesn't plan on doing it again. It was nice, yeah. It was something to do, but Ichigo doesn't think it suits him. He doesn't think he needs it.

He goes home, after he's changed his shirt to something tight that smells vaguely of cigarettes and pot smoke ("ya can keep it, kid. It belonged to my ex, anyway"). He crawls into his bed, still fully clothed, and sleeps like the dead, unmoved by nightmares for the first time in six months.

When he wakes up, he feels a bit better than death warmed over.

It's a nice step up.

-SOH-

The guy- who goes by Ahiru, as Ichigo finds out- seems unsurprised when Ichigo shows up a week later. Ichigo can't find it in him to care. The pull- not a need, not yet- has been niggling at the back of his mind constantly, since that first time. The feeling of floating without leaving the ground is a nice one, and the sleep he got after... It's the best he's had in months.

That's what draws him back, really. A quiet, dreamless sleep, which has eluded him since that first night. Ichigo can't let go of that, especially considering that since then, all he's dreamt of is blood and pain and things he can't remember but wake him with screams caught in his throat.

He doesn't want to dream anymore.

This time, he's brought money. Too much, and Ahiru tells him so, smiling as he counts out a quarter of what he's brought.

"I'll set you up here, if you've got nowhere to hide," Ahiru tells him when he brings out a ziploc of white powder. "But don't make a habit of doin' shit here. Ya'll mess with my business."

Ichigo nods, but doesn't say a word. He hasn't said much, since people stopped talking to him.

Ahiru takes note of this.

"Yer as tight-lipped as an oyster." He grins. "Since ya ain't givin' me a name to call ya, I'm gonna call ya Kaki. Okay?"

Ichigo doesn't care. He shrugs his shoulders, intent on what Ahiru's doing with his hands, with tinfoil and a spoon and a flame.

Ahiru snorts.

"Yeah, pay attention, Kaki. Yer gonna be doing this yerself, next time."

Yeah, probably. But Ichigo doesn't say anything. He lets Ahiru put the needle against his skin, just under the little mark left behind from the first time.

"Ya'll need to do this on yer own, too," Ahiru adds, pressing the needle into his skin. "Ya'll have to find the vein yerself."

Ichigo knows. He's a doctor's son, he knows this sort of thing.

The burn isn't nearly as uncomfortable the second time around, and when Ichigo sinks into the broken down, battered couch in Ahiru's living room this time, the release is even better.

He'll have a good night's sleep tonight, he's certain.

-SOH-

Ichigo figured no one would notice. His Dad and Karin are never home (he knows where they are) and Yuzu's dating, finally. His grades don't drop, after all, and the kind of work he's doing doesn't need him to be sober.

Shakedowns for Yakuza thugs aren't hard when you have a reputation. And Ichigo's still the best fighter in town, even if he's lost a bit more weight than he really should.

He talks little and smiles less. Nobody notices his yellowing teeth, and his droopy, glassy eyes are just another thing nobody takes the time to comment on, that nobody takes the time to observe.

Ichigo's hair grows out. He can't spare the money to cut it, anymore than he can spend the money on a lunch at school or new clothes. Nobody seems to notice that either, though, at least, no one important.

Ahiru does, though. He seems to like Ichigo. He seems to like his Kaki's quiet manner and cloudy highs, and lets him stay, even after warning him away. He notices when Ichigo's clothes start to get ragged and too big, and teaches him how to dig through thrift shops and steal from grocery stores. He's the one that thinks of their new arrangement, when Ichigo becomes too weak for shakedowns, who teaches Ichigo everything he needs to know.

"All the- all the way down, Kaki, there ya go," he mutters, hands fisted in too-long orange hair and eyes half-lidded as Ichigo sucks hard, cheeks hollowing and eyes glassy. "Just like that."

Ichigo doesn't think much of it. He was a virgin before he met Ahiru, and he's not sad that he isn't now. In fact, he's quite happy with it.

(He doesn't think too hard about the times when Ahiru isn't there- when he leaves Ichigo with a 'friend' with a kiss and an order to "be good".)

All in all, it isn't so bad. Six, seven, eight months, Ichigo's using, and nothing really changes- well, some things change.

He just about moves in with Ahiru, for one. There's no point in going home when there's no one there to greet him, to miss him, to acknowledge his existence. Another thing is that he stops going to school. Why bother? He's content with where he is, what he's doing, where he's going. What's a diploma going to change?

Exactly.

Ichigo's days are routine. He wakes up early and has a pick-me-up before he's even blinked the sleep out of his eyes. If Ahiru has something in the fridge, Ichigo might eat. If Ahiru's home, they'll fuck, with Ichigo's face pressed into filthy sheets and moaning because Ahiru knows just what makes him tick, after so long using his ass. After that, if neither of them have nothing to do and there's nothing good on tv, they go out.

This is when trouble starts.

It's been over a year since Ichigo's really seen anybody. He hasn't used his name since Ahiru dubbed him Kaki, all those months ago, and as far as he's concerned, Kurosaki Ichigo's gone, just like the half of his soul that was his worth.

And then,

"Kurosaki-san?"

He's higher than the the throne of God, leaning limply against the brick of some rundown apartment building. Ahiru's making a delivery because he's bored, and Ichigo's tagging along because fuck, he's got nowhere else to be.

He'd tense, if he wasn't so strung out.

When he finds the strength to raise his head, he finds a familiar striped hat perched on a blond hat.

He can't help it. He laughs.

"Hiya, Urahara-san," he greets with a dip of his head that's a little too jerky, too deep. His voice is raspy, from lack of use. "What brings you here?"

The blond smiles, but it's tight.

"Picking up a few orders," he explains, pointing to a plain delivery van. "And you?"

Ichigo shrugs.

"Waiting for a friend," he admits, pointing up at the building with a weak finger. "What are you doing here..." He trails off, chuckling to himself. "I- I already asked you that. What-"

"Oi, Kaki!"

Ichigo turns to see Ahiru standing in the doorway, a cigarette already hanging from his mouth.

"Ahiru! You're finished?"

"Yeah." He lopes over to the pair, swinging an easy arm over Ichigo's shoulders.

He jerks his chin at Urahara.

"Who're ya?"

Urahara turns that tight smile on Ahiru.

"A family friend," he says, before turning back to Ichigo.

"You haven't come around for a long time, Kurosaki-san. It's been lonely, without you."

Ichigo snorts.

"Doubt it."

"Kaki's been busy with me." Ahiru tilts his head.

"And... Who are you?"

Ahiru shoots him a dark smirk and tightens his grip on Ichigo's shoulder.

"I'm his boyfriend."

Ichigo stiffens at that, but doesn't say no, distantly pleased at the blond's look of surprise.

"Anyway, we're off. Nice to meet ya, Urahara-san." Ahiru tugs Ichigo away and down the street, arm still around Ichigo's shoulder.

"Who was that, Kaki?" He mutters to Ichigo once they turned the corner. "He seemed... Friendly."

Ichigo shrugs. "Just a friend of my Dad's." A smirk curls his lips.

"What, were you jealous, Ahiru?"

Ahiru huffs a laugh.

"Maybe," he admits, pressing his temple to Ichigo's as they walk. "Ya usually don't open yer mouth for anyone but me, ya know?"

"That's because you don't care about my teeth." Ichigo can't stand his teeth anymore. It's one of the reasons he doesn't smile.

"Who cares about yer teeth?" The dark-haired man presses a kiss to Ichigo's hollow cheek. "Yer pretty sexy, regardless."

Ichigo goes pink and shoves him, hard. Ahiru likes to say things like that, mostly because he's an asshole.

"Shut up, Ahiru."

"What, I can't give my boyfriend a compliment?" Ahiru's laughing now, but his hand slides from Ichigo's shoulders to his waist, warm and possessive against his bony hip.

"I..." Ichigo sighs. "I'm the girl, right now, aren't I?"

"Oh, yer most definitely male," the older man promises. "I wouldn't like ya, otherwise." He glances at his watch, a battered old thing thing that slides past his thumb, most days.

"It's almost five. Want to grab dinner and fuck like rabbits after?"

Ichigo smiles shyly, and Ahiru's pleased to see a hint of yellow.

"Sounds good," the orangette says, sidling closer. Yeah."

Ahiru grins.

It's gonna be a good night.

-SOH-

"Ishida-san, when was the last time you actually saw Kurosaki-san in person?"

Uryuu looks up from his tea, brow furrowed in confusion.

"... Maybe... The last time he was in school? Before the winter holidays." He tilts his head. "Why?"

"No reason." Urahara feels his heart sinking. "He stopped going to school? Did he drop out?"

"I think he might have transferred," Orihime says thoughtfully. "Though, no paperwork was ever filed- I work part time in the filing room at school," she adds in explanation.

Chado shakes his head.

"Ichigo stopped coming," he tells them. "I heard a few yakuza talking about it. He was running shakedowns, last I heard."

"I thought Kurosaki was smarter than that," Ishida says, and there's a touch of a sneer there. "Mixing with yakuza scum, I ask you..."

"He has to mix with somebody," Chado says with a shrug, and Ishida flinches. Out of all of them, Chado fought the hardest with Isshin about the vow of silence the Kurosaki head imposed. He's the one who tried the hardest to keep Ichigo from slipping away.

Urahara thinks back to his encounter with the orangette, only a few days ago. The teen was definitely on something. Probably for a while, too. He can't help but remember how thin Ichigo looked, how hollowed out and weak.

He can't but think it's at least partially his fault.

Perhaps he ought to start keeping tabs on Ichigo again. Isshin's out of town for the week, and it wouldn't hurt to check up on his ex-student. Perhaps it might explain why Isshin hasn't said anything about Ichigo's obviously deteriorating health, or the glassy-eyed stare that marks his son a drug addict.

He'll have to look into it, and soon.

-SOH-

Ichigo feels like he's going to die.

His skin itches. He can't stop fidgeting. His eyes are watering and his stomach is churning. But he can't. Not yet.

Ahiru told him to wait, when he left this morning. Ichigo is now regretting his promise to obey.

It's been eight hours. He didn't have any when he woke up this morning, and he's really starting to feel it.

…

Fuck it.

Ichigo fumbles when he sets up. Ahiru usually does it for him, taking pleasure in the preparation rather than the drug itself. He almost never uses with Ichigo, actually. Only on days he deems 'special occasions'. Ichigo thinks there's something sensual about it, having someone else set the needle to his skin and pull the trigger. It's nice, and almost always leads to a good fuck.

He's being too hasty, but he doesn't care. He needs some, and he needs it now.

His hands shake so bad that he misses the vein, twice. Still, he hits his mark, and euphoria hits him, better than an orgasm.

And then, it drowns him.

-SOH-

Ichigo's room is coated in inches of dust, obviously unused.

Kisuke is pissed.

Isshin has either been more unobservant than he thought, or has been deliberately hiding the fact that Ichigo is obviously not living with him. Either way, there will be blood. Kisuke will actually kill him.

Kisuke turns slowly back to Karin, who looks equal parts frightened and guilty.

"Ichi-nii… He stopped coming home for weeks at a time," she mumbles at his unspoken question. "Yuzu used to try and keep it clean, but… Then he stopped coming all together. I guess there was no point, since no one was ever home."

The blond takes a deep, calming breath.

"You're brother is in trouble, and has no connection to anyone who would be willing to help us- not unless you know a man who goes by the name Ahiru."

Karin's brow furrows.

"Duck? No, there's no one I can think of who goes by that."

Kisuke holds back an exasperated sigh.

"Alright," he says carefully, eyes shadowed. "I'll keep an eye out for him, then. Your brother's in a mess of trouble- it'd be for the best if we could locate him."

"And help him?"

"… If possible." It doesn't matter if Isshin forbids it. Kisuke's let him play the father card for long enough.

Karin stares at the floor.

"I'm sorry, Urahara-san," she whispers. Kisuke thinks she might be crying.

He brushes past her.

"Don't apologize to me," he says flatly. "Find your brother and apologize to him."

-SOH-

"Ryuuken-sensei, we've got an overdose, here!"

Ryuuken moves smoothly through the ER, snapping on rubber gloves as he strides across the sterile white tile.

Then he freezes.

There is an orangette in his ER.

"What's he on?" he demands, shoving past the nurses surrounding him. "What are we giving him?"

"His heart's too weak-"

"Heroin, we think. We're not sure-"

"Damn that Kurosaki!" Ryuuken curses, reaching for the defibrillators. "Someone call Urahara Shouten. Urahara Kisuke is to come to the hospital, immediately!"

"Sensei?"

"Now!" The emaciated body belonging to Ryuuken's nephew jerks under the force of the electrical shock that courses through him.

This is not a good day.

-SOH-

Kisuke is stiff in the uncomfortable plastic chair beside Ichigo's bed. The teen looks absolutely awful, small and fragile on the too-white sheets of the hospital bed.

"Can you tell how long he was using?" he asks through numb lips, eyes trailing across discolored forearms.

"We can't be certain. Maybe a year, maybe less." Ryuuken shifts. "He came in with Masaki's cross."

Kisuke blinks.

"So he knows?"

"Almost definitely. Masaki wasn't one to keep secrets."

Kisuke laughs harshly.

"No, no. That's Isshin's thing."

Ryuuken inclines his head in agreement.

"I'll be keeping him here until he is rehabilitated."

"You're not telling Isshin?"

"He would destroy any progress his son is likely to make." The dark-haired man shakes his head. "No."

Kisuke sighs. "Kurosaki-san is going to be very ill."

"For a very long time," Ryuuken agrees. "And if the cause of this behavior is not discovered and righted, the moment he is released, he will return to it."

The blond buries his face in his hands.

"Fuck."

"Exactly."

-SOH-

Ichigo refuses to say a word. Not to Kisuke, not to Ryuuken, and most certainly not to the bitch who's pretending to understand what he's going through.

It makes Kisuke want to tear his hair out.

He doesn't. But he wants to.

Ichigo knows he wants to.

Ichigo spends his days by the window of the little room he's been given, separate, alone. That or he's in the bathroom, vomiting, shitting, generally being miserable as he's caught in the throes of detox. He doesn't let the nurses help him, hissing and spitting and throwing things until they leave him to suffer alone.

He doesn't want to be helped.

Ahiru doesn't visit. Ichigo figures it's to save his own hide, and doesn't really blame him for it. It's an unwritten rule that junkies don't get visits from their dealers, even if they are boyfriends.

A month in, Kisuke brings him a book.

"Yuzu-chan says it's your favorite," he says as he sets a tattered copy of Les Mis on the nightstand. "I didn't know you could read French."

Ichigo swallows hard, eyes on the little hospital garden he can see from the window.

"I speak French, Russian, English, and German," he says. His throat crackles as he speaks. "I was working on Arabic when you guys threw me in here."

Kisuke bites back his immediate reply- that Ichigo landed himself in here, and it's his own fault for fucking with drugs- and says instead,

"You like languages."

"Keeps me busy." Ichigo rolls his thin shoulders- even the smallest set of scrubs hang off him, now. "Have to do something with all my newfound free time."

"... Ishida-kun said you were doing shakedowns for yakuza."

The orangette snorts.

"Yeah, for a little while... Easier to be a whore, though. Money's better."

The blond flinches, and Ichigo smiles meanly.

"Does that disgust you, Urahara-san?" He inquires, cocking his head innocently even as a leer fixes itself on his face. "Maybe you should tell my Daddy- he probably knows exactly what to do with me."

Kisuke chokes.

"You don't mean to imply-"

"What? That Isshin would fuck me?" Ichigo's face goes blank as he sits back. "No... I don't think he'd do that. I'm not worth that, anyway."

"Kurosaki-san..."

"Don't call me that."

"..." Kisuke sighs. "Ichigo, then. You realize we're worried-"

"Only because you think it's your fault. Guilt's a hard to ignore." Sharp words, but Ichigo's a sharp soul, now.

"That's not it- though it does play a part, certainly." The blond sits forward. "We- I made a mistake. I listened to a man who knew nothing of the situation, and now you're paying the price-"

"Fuck you." Something in Ichigo's voice sounds close to fury, and the way he stands- oh yeah, Kisuke's pissed him off.

"The entire goddamn world revolves around shinigami for you fuckers," he hisses. "My- my world revolved around it, too, and then you- you all kicked me to the curb. How can you— how did—"

Something in his face breaks. He curls over himself, knees hitting the floor as his hands fist themselves into his too-long hair.

"How could you not know?" he whispers, voice cracking. "How could all of you not realize?"

Kisuke swallows.

"Kurosaki-san—"

"I said don't call me that." Ichigo gets to his feet unsteadily. His eyes are fixed on the floor. You should go, Urahara-san. I'm not feeling too well. Thanks for the book."

The blond thinks he's probably right. He gets to his feet, Benihime in hand.

"Good bye, Ichigo," he murmurs. He turns to go.

"It's rude, you know, that you bring her with you."

Kisuke glances back. Ichigo's eyes are still following the cracks between the tiles.

"I had that part of my soul torn away, and yet you can't let her go to talk with the parts of me that the process left behind." There's blood dripping from his nose onto the floor. He doesn't notice.

"It's very rude."

Ichigo doesn't speak again, and Kisuke takes that as his dismissal.

-SOH-

"Mood swings aren't unusual for detoxing patients." Ryuuken flicks his cigarette almost absently. "And he reveals more than most. He's like his mother, that way."

Kisuke doesn't answer. His mouth is set in a grim line, his eyes shadowed by his hat.

"The moment he's released, he'll kill himself."

The shopkeeper does look up at that.

"How do you know?"

Ryuuken sighs.

"He'll make it look like an accident," he continues, as though Kisuke hadn't spoken. "He's incredibly, intelligent, you know. He had an interest in the medical field, before all of this, going so far as to read through his father's textbooks in middle school. His understanding of the human body is… Unparalleled. It's probably why he's never killed an opponent."

"How do you know he's going to kill himself?" Kisuke repeats, voice going low and deep.

"He's told me." Ryuuken blows the smoke out of his nose almost lazily. "Not directly, of course, but he's given me… Pieces.

"Many addicts die of an overdose post-rehabilitation. Ichigo and I had a very in-depth discussion about it, a few days ago. It seems he's been keeping himself up to date with most medical journals. He's quite knowledgeable on the subject."

"But— why?" Kisuke asks. "He knows what will become of him, should he…"

"Expire? I'm not sure about that." Ryuuken gaze slides to the cherry of his cigarette pensively. "Did you know that, according to certain Western beliefs, a suicide is the greatest of sins, and the soul is sent to Hell?"

"That's insane. He'd choose Hell over a chance at a normal life?"

"That's assuming his soul could even make the journey. He told you himself, Urahara-san. His soul is damaged. It might be impossible for him to move on." Ryuuken rolls the cigarette between his fingers absently.

"The depression is a side-effect. Uryuu went through the same. However, Ichigo is not Uryuu. He molds his world around interpersonal relationships. I fear that, because he lacked the emotional support he so obviously needed in the early stages, he is… beyond our help."

"… So, that's it, then?" Kisuke's words are like ice. "You would let Masaki's son die?"

"Masaki's son died the moment his father refused him help," Ryuuken says tartly, stubbing his cigarette with a vicious stab at the ashtray. "What's left is a broken man. Even in Hell, he would have a greater peace than living on as he is. I do not fault him for being selfish, just this once. It's obvious caring for others has only ruined him."

"You… You're going to let him do it."

"I'm not going to let him do anything. He's going to make his decision, as an adult."

"He's not even twenty!"

Ryuuken sighs.

"And yet, he raised two younger sisters, cared for a failure of a father, held a position as one of the top twenty-five students in his grade, fought in a war against a would-be god, rescued one sister from Hell, and has spent the last— year? Year and a half?— as a junkie on the streets. The boy's gone through more in the last year than most of us have gone through in a lifetime. So yes, I'm going to let him choose his path." His lips purse.

"Besides, it's not like I'm his father."

Kisuke winces, looking away.

"Isshin doesn't deserve that," he says weakly. "No matter what he's done, he doesn't deserve to lose his son that way."

"This is out of Isshin's hands," the Quincy says firmly. "Mark my words: Ichigo will be dead within a year of release. And no matter how much you tail him, how much you try to make it better, it will happen."

"You're wrong." The blond feels numb, hollow. "He can't— he wouldn't really do that. He'll think better of it, it's only a… a phase."

"He's not painting his nails and joining a Satanic cult, he's contemplating suicide. A lot of people do that, yes, but when have you ever known that boy to do anything by halves?" Ryuuken shakes his head. "He's going to die, and we can't do anything but prepare."

Kisuke doesn't speak again, but he takes the cigarette when Ryuuken offers it to him.

He hasn't smoked since 1945.

-SOH-

"Ichigo? Theres a visitor here for you."

Ichigo looks up to see a familiar mop of black hair. His eyes widen, his lips pull up into a tight, close-lipped smile.

"Ahiru."

"Kaki! How are ya?" He's enveloped in a warm hug, the familiar smell of cigarette and weed smoke clinging to Ahiru's jacket and surrounding him as he hugs back, tightly.

"What are you doing here, Ahiru?" he murmurs, acutely aware of Ryuuken's presence in the doorway. "I thought—"

"I would've visited weeks ago, but I got picked up on a bogus charge. Jaywalking, can ya believe that shit? Anyway, it took awhile, but Mikako— you remember him, right? Well, posted bail and now I'm here. How ya doin'?"

Ichigo sighs. "I'm not doing well. Detox, you know."

Ahiru shudders.

"Yeah," he agrees. "Don't worry, though. I'll be waitin' for ya when ya come home, right?"

Ichigo huffs a laugh, relieved. He wasn't sure what, exactly, he was expecting, but this answer is probably the best news he's heard since landing in the hospital.

"How're the nightmare?"

Ichigo glances sharply at Ryuuken, who isn't even bothering to pretend he isn't listening.

"… Worse since I came here," he mutters. "But they'll go away once I get home."

"Yeah." Ahiru grins.

They take a seat on the edge of the bed and they just… Talk. Eventually, Ryuuken leaves, and a nurse takes his place. Eventually, Ahiru has to leave.

"Can ya smile for me, Kaki?" he asks, kissing Ichigo softly.

Ichigo goes pink, scoffing.

"Ahiru."

"C'mon, no one's watchin'. Just one little smile." He leans a little closer. He's a full head taller than Ichigo.

"Ya said no to the bathroom BJ, Kaki, ya can give me on little smile."

"There's a nurse right there, Ahiru, no."

"They won't care. Come on, Kaki. Smile."

As he speaks, he leans down nip at Ichigo's neck. The orangette shivers.

"No."

"I love ya and ya won't even smile for me? I'm hurt, Kaki."

Ichigo goes very stiff.

"What… What did you say?"

Ahiru smiles.

"I love ya. Ichigo."

Ichigo can't help it. The warmth that floods his body, the complete and utter— what is this, joy? Happiness, maybe?— that fills his chest and bursts through it… It pulls back his lips, reveals yellowed, delicate teeth.

"There we go. Just for me." Ahiru grins. "Yer mine, Kaki. Never forget that."

He slides on his coat, nods to the nurse who's gone pink and has found a particularly interesting crack in the opposite wall, and leaves.

Ichigo's alone again, but it's okay.

Ahiru loves him.

-SOH-

"You're friend mentioned something about nightmares."

Ichigo shrugs.

"Yeah."

"You've never mentioned anything in our sessions."

Ichigo rolls his eyes.

"What am I supposed to say? I have nightmares, fine. Everyone does."

"But you have a reason for your nightmares, don't you, Ichigo." Ryuuken sits back. "Is it a factor, in your drug use?"

The orangette frowns.

"It… It might've helped me sleep," he admits with a shrug.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

Ryuuken doesn't expect an answer, and he doesn't get one. Ichigo's silent for the rest of their session, and they get nowhere.

Just like Ryuuken expected.

-SOH-

"Why didn't you tell me he was here?"

"You were going to impede his progress. I couldn't have that."

"Impede— I'm his father, Ryuuken!"

"Yes, that fact has served him so well before," the Quincy replies flatly. "He's a junkie, Isshin. I'm doing my best, and my best doesn't involve you."

"Did you forget I'm a doctor, too? I can help him just fine from home—"

"You didn't even realize he wasn't living with you until a month ago," Ryuuken points out. "Not to mention your medical degree is a forgery. What good could such a reticent father do for a son suffering from PTSD and heroin addiction?"

"I could—"

"You did nothing. I will not allow you to continue to do nothing." The Quincy pauses. "Have you seen him?"

"I stopped in on my way up here—"

"Baka!"

Ryuuken pushes past him, cigarette abandoned on his office floor. He takes off at a run, down the hall, down the steps— elevators take too long, especially in emergencies like this— and Ichigo's room—

Is empty.

He slumps against the doorframe, breathing hard. The room's empty. The window's intact, but the door…

"You left the goddamn door unlocked," he grunts, eyes flashing as Isshin slows to a stop beside him. "You left a suicidal heroin addict's hospital door unlocked, and you claim you can take care of him? You fucking… Fuck!"

Ryuuken whirls.

"That boy's gone God knows where, now. It's going to be months before we can track him down again— if we can even track him down. Do you realize what you done?"

"Kisuke—" Isshin starts.

"Kisuke was looking for him since he fucking disappeared!" Ryuuken's breathing hard. Luckily, the nurses have cleared out, and there aren't any other patients on this floor. "We didn't find him until he showed up in the fucking emergency room! What the hell was Masaki thinking, letting a useless, narcissistic, lying, complete sack of shit father her children? How dare you try to claim fatherhood for a boy you never even— Fucking hell, Isshin, you asshole."

There's a long pause, then Isshin tries again.

"He'll show up again," he says softly. "His sisters—"

"Haven't seen him since before he was admitted," Ryuuken finishes. "The next time you'll be seeing him, Isshin, will be in a morgue."

"You—"

"Get the fuck out of my hospital, Isshin. Idiocy is catching."

Isshin leaves.

-SOH-

"Ahiru? I'm home—"

Icigo freezes in the doorway of Ahiru's bedroom. Ahiru looks up from the man he has in his bed and smiles.

"Kaki! You remember Mikako, right?"

"Ya didn't tell me he was out, Ahiru. I woulda taken him, instead."

Ichigo swallows hard.

"Ahiru, what's this?"

"This? Pay back, for getting me out early so I could see ya." Ahiru smiles. "Ya want a hit first, or are ya goin' ta help me?"

Ahiru loves Ichigo. He's letting some guy— a pimp, if Ichigo remembers correctly— fuck him up the ass in exchange for the money he needed to get out and see Ichigo. He's doing this for Ichigo, even though he's 'top only, exit only'.

It's only fair Ichigo help him.

Tugging off the scrubs he'd swiped from the closet, he approaches the bed carefully.

"I haven't… Done this for a while," he admits quietly, feeling goosebumps erupt across his skin as Mikako eyes him. "I need… Prep."

"Ah, that's fine." Mikako smiles at him. "Come here. Ya suck dick, right?"

Ichigo glances at Ahiru, who's sitting on the edge of the bed now, naked and eyeing Ichigo just as hungrily.

Ichigo nods and leans over the… Third party.

Ahiru loves him. It's only fair he pays him back.

-SOH-

Mikako's gone, and Ichigo's bloody. Ahiru cleans him up and shoots him up, and they're curled up on the pullout in the living room, because it's cleaner.

"I love ya, Kaki."

Ichigo can't feel the pain in his ass anymore, but he thinks he might be crying, anyway.

"I know," he whispers back. "I love you, too."

Mikako fucked him up pretty bad, but he won't be asking for Ahiru to pay him back. They'll be fine, because Ahiru loves him and he loves Ahiru.

Ahiru nuzzles into Ichigo's neck, tongue flicking out to taste.

"Ya know, it was really hot, watching you get fucked by Mikako," he murmurs, hot breath ghosting over Ichigo's skin. "When you started crying… Bleeding… Ya were so sexy."

"Ahiru…"

"I'm goin' to fuck ya while yer still like this," he murmurs. "I'm goin' to make ya bleed again, okay? It's goin' to hurt, but ya took it for Mikako, right? You can take it for me."

Ichigo mumbles a protest. It's weak though. He can't really focus on anything, the way he is.

"It'll be okay, Kaki. It'll be okay."

Ichigo feels pain, so much pain, but…

But nothing.

-SOH-

Ichigo wakes up alone, which is good.

He has a plan, today, and he doesn't want Ahiru catching him and distracting him.

His ass hurts so much.

He strips the beds, hobbling like a baby horse, and throws everything in the wash. He cleans himself, the kitchen and the bathroom, readies a hot pot, and when dinner's cooked, he puts it in the refrigerator. Ahiru will have some whenever he comes home.

Then, Ichigo takes the bleach out of the bathroom.

He thought about leaving a note for his family, but… He thinks only Yuzu would appreciate the gesture, and writing a note just for her seems as unfair to her as writing a note for all of them, doesn't it?

He writes one for Ahiru, though. He tapes it to the lid of the hotpot. It's simple, but it's enough, he thinks.

Ichigo doesn't think a straw will cut it, but he's… He's apprehensive. The internet says it will burn. It will be excruciating. But it's almost certain.

He'd hang himself, but that's probably more jarring than finding a body on the floor. He'd overdose, but…

Actually, scratch this bleach bullshit, he's taking a shot of painkilling_ bliss_ and just make certain he takes enough to stop his heart. Fuck this 'pain' bullshit.

Ahiru has a record player, and a collection that could rival a record store. Ichigo finds something Pink Floyd, skips to second disc and lets the quiet guitar of the first track wash over him. He loves this song.

He sets everything up. He does it again. He stabs the needle into a tried and true point in the bend of his elbow. He pushes, and…

To die. To _sleep_...

-SOH-

The man on the edge of the crowd doesn't quite match. His suit is old and ill-fitting. His hair is greasy, his face unshaven. But his eyes are red, and it looks like he hasn't slept in days.

Mostly, though, he looks familiar, and that's why Yuzu approaches him.

"Can I help you?"

The man twitches and looks up from a folded, crumpled piece of paper.

"… You're… His sister, right? Ichigo's."

Yuzu swallows. "Yeah. I'm Yuzu."

"Ahiru," he answers with a nod. "I'm… Sorry."

Ahiru… Something clicks.

"You're the guy who found his body," she realizes, and he shifts uncomfortably.

"He was living with me," he murmurs. "He ran for my place, I guess, when he broke out."

"He felt safe with you."

Something akin to guilt creeps through the man's eyes.

"Yeah, I guess."

Yuzu bites her lip.

"What's that?"

Ahiru glances down at the paper.

"Nothing. Just… Directions."

"Oh." She looks back to the crowd. From here, she can see Inoue weeping. The shopkeeper whose name she can't ever seem to remember stands solemnly beside Ishida-kun's father. He's missing his hat and his cane, dressed in a somber gray blazer and dress pants.

"Would you join us?" she asks.

Ahiru shakes his head.

"I'm just fine here," he tells her sadly. "But thanks."

Yuzu nods and, at a loss of what else to say, rejoins her family. She has her work cut out for her, after all, with a newly-mute father and a sister who can't do anything but cry. She has to take charge. Her onii-chan would have wanted that.

She doesn't see the man again, after the service, and by the end of the day, she's forgotten about him and his directions completely.

Eventually, he hopes to forget her, too.

* * *

A/N:

I'm not sure how this turned out, it's 3 am and I'm kinda groggy, so please, send feedback, leave a review, or message me on my tumblr (straight-outta-hobbiton. tumblr. com).

I just don't like leaving Ichigo alive, guys. Sorry about that.


End file.
